


monster hospital

by asukalangley



Category: All For the Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Multi, yes i'm writing this whole thing in lowercase. it's an aesthetic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-30
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2018-08-11 23:40:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7912033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asukalangley/pseuds/asukalangley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>neil josten learns about living through the survival of andrew minyard. it's the end of the world; stupid decisions are definitely allowed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. this town is your grave

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. this was originally intended to be a oneshot but i wrote this so slowly and my impatient ass decided to turn this into a multi-chaptered fic. i've planned nothing so this should be a wild ride (that means i'm open to suggestions! yay! reader input!)  
> 2\. i actually always write in lowercase it's unfortunate  
> 3\. ummmmm don't walk into this fic with high hopes. don't make the same mistake i did

  _‘i would rather run with you than walk alone.’_

* * *

 most of the world is upside down, and of that which is still right side up, it is strange. 

as the sun burns high in the sky, neil silently curses himself for being impatient as he runs through the streets of millport – he should’ve waited until the sun was lower before running to grab supplies. the dark has its own risks, of course, but at least he wouldn’t be battling it out in the blazing heat.

for someone who has been shaped into a survivor, he sure takes a lot of risks.

his most stupidest risk so far would have to be the fact that he still opts for guns over the smarter and quieter options. it had been a war inside his mind as to whether or not he finally picks up a knife again or whether he continues to spite his father, even if the only one neil’s really spiting is himself.

before the world had broken apart, he had already kept a silencer in his duffel bag, having a head-start on those without weapons or ammunition to fight back. in fact, neil’s life isn’t too much different than before. the only real difference now is that there’s less fresh fruit around and dead people everywhere.

his heart starts hammering in his chest when he rounds onto the street he stays on, eyes flickering about to see if he’s still alone. the undead are ravenous, though most are quick to turn into nothing more than twitching, moaning, unseeing torsos in the heat. the confirmation of safety does nothing to ease his nerves and he surges forward for the last push, quickly entering the code to the building with practiced ease and sprinting towards the stairs.

he knows that the suburbs are the most dangerous place to be, but thankfully millport is (or was) a small town filled with mostly abandoned houses. for someone who’d grown up in a city of two million and hopped from big cities to more big cities, millport might as well have been another planet. he’d quickly made camp in a deserted set of apartments that had an accessible fire escape, and had already mapped out at least four possible escape routes should something go wrong within the first week.

(he’s been impossibly lucky so far.)

the first thing he does when he enters his room is drop his bag of supplies and heads straight to the safe where he keeps his most important item when he’s not dragging it around. neil’s fingers ghost along the cover of his notebook, the one that holds his entire life so far, and his breath shreds in his throat. it’s been three months since the end of the world, and he still clings to this.

there’s a familiar flicker of want in his chest, and he pushes it back down as fast as it came. he’s always been lonely, for a lack of a better word; seeing people around him living their lives in happiness but feeling so distant and having none for himself. he doesn’t deserve it, but he wants it nonetheless.

not in any great hurry now, neil places the notebook into the safe, closes the door, and returns to the reason he’d taken the trip in the first place: medicine, a box of protein bars, a box of questionable hair dye, a few packets of AA batteries, and more packaged food. neil’s still wary about using electricity in his own apartment even though it still works, fear that someone could track the usage and find him niggling in the back of his brain whenever the thought rears its head. who knows who could be watching the network these days?

that’s how his days more or less go nowadays. run, supplies, read, hide. he is down to only the basic of survival instincts, no longer having to worry about fitting into the crowds or society as a whole, but rather how to best take care of any dead man who gets in his way and staying out of sight.

two weeks pass in an eerily similar way, to the point where neil wouldn’t know what day it is if not for the tally he neatly scratches into the wall every morning. he is down to his last protein bar, and whilst he has a small pile of food to keep him going for the next week, he still considers sprinting down to the store for more just for something to do.

it’s cooler today, probably because there are little to no clouds in the sky to retain the heat. he takes it in stride as he hitches his duffel bag up his shoulder to keep it from slipping, and breaks into a run towards the grocery. maybe this time he’ll spoil himself and get some scented body wash and detour towards the local gym on his way back.

neil manages to make it without reaching for his gun even once. a dead man holds its hand out to him from behind the counter as he enters, though neil has been here too many times to worry about it breaking free. he makes a beeline towards where he knows the protein bars are, snatching one box that’s fallen between the shelf and the next one over, before drifting towards the back of the store where the books are.

he runs a finger along the spines, his eyes drinking in the titles and making several  mental notes to remember the ones that look the most appealing. it goes without saying that neil’s mental notebook is now down to its 17th volume.

(luck only runs for so long.)

there’s the distinct rumbling of an engine, growing louder and louder, and every worry neil’s had in the last few months resurfaces. has someone tracked the local electricity? has there been a flyover? is it the military? is it his father? is it ––

a car door slams.

whoever it is, they’re close. they’re at least on this street, but neil’s not stupid enough to peer beyond the shelf he hides behind to see how close they really are.

“any luck?” he hears someone with a deep voice say.

neil doesn’t make out the reply.

“don’t tell me we drove all this way for nothin’.” a pause. “get your shit out of the car – and don’t give me that look. now, minyard. i’ve gotten my hand stuck on enough sweet wrappers to last a life-time.”

“if no one’s here, we should at least take some supplies.” another voice pitches in. “we may have been able to say before that we shouldn’t, but now that we know no one’s here–”

“this isn’t a damn supply run.”

another door slams. neil wishes they’d be quieter. he fears the fallout he’ll be left to clean up once they leave – _if_ they leave.

“you two stay here,” the deep voice starts again, “and i mean that. i’ll check this place out first.”

neil goes completely still and there is only silence, save for his heart thrumming in his ears and beating against his ribcage as if it’s trying to claw its way out. he instinctively shrinks against the shelf, hoping whoever it is isn’t after any reading material.

there’s rustling a few shelves ahead, and neil’s toes curl. **_leave leave leave_**. 

“oi, minyard, you want any of these?” the voice calls and he’s walking away, neil realises.

but that’s when neil realises he’s _really_ out of luck.

there’s the sound of a crash and a curse, and neil remains frozen in place. he can’t see what’s going on, but he hears the sound of people running into the store and a snarl that sounds entirely feral.

“i’ve got it.” the first man says, though there’s a hard edge to his voice that makes neil’s hair stand on edge.

his quiet movements muffled by the sound of the others, neil tries to peer through the shelves, and he can just barely make out what’s going on. he figures that the dead man’s resilience has somehow been rejuvenated by the sight of another person, and it’d managed to knock off the brochures on the counter as it crawled over to the first man. the living man who faces it is tall and muscular, with tribal flame tattoos on his arms, and a hard look on his face. the kill is an easy one.

“any other fuckers i need to know about?” he calls behind him.

neil’s gaze flickers to his two companions. one is incredibly tall, the other short – though neil can’t really tell if that’s only because he’s standing next to someone much taller than the shelves.

“doesn’t look like it,” the tall one says, a tad impatiently, “but it won’t be long before the noise attracts more.”

the short one is impossibly impassive – neil doesn’t even think he saw his face twitch – and starts towards the shelves the first man had been standing by originally.

“grab a snack and go.” the first man agrees, ignoring the short one as if this behaviour is normal.

neil doesn’t realise his fingers are shaking until they fall into his line of vision, and he clamps them to his mouth to quieten his breaths. he reminds himself to breathe through his diaphragm rather than his throat to avoid hyperventilation, though the urge to suck in needless gulps is rather difficult to resist. _they have no need to come back here_ , he tells himself, _they will take what they need and go_.

he hears them rummage around a bit, and neil sinks back to the ground. maybe it’s a good thing he loses his initial sight of them, because that would stop the unnecessary panic and lightheadedness of seeing the short one walk towards the back of the store.

blue eyes widen at the sight of him, and if the short one is surprised, he doesn’t let on. there’s something there though, maybe the edge of a frown, but he doesn’t say anything.

neil can’t seem to tear his gaze away, fear slipping like ice into the bottom of his stomach. the other’s passive face does nothing to calm him.

“andrew,” the impatient-tall-one nags from a few shelves over, “are you done? i don’t want to spend more time here then we have to.”

the short one (minyard – andrew?) doesn’t tear his gaze away from neil.

“god, i knew he wasn’t ready for this.” the impatient-tall-one hisses, and if neil can hear him, then andrew most certainly can, too. “it’s nothing short of a miracle that he’s even functioning.”

“miracles are never without great cost.”

“but–”

“you should know better than to leave your guard dog behind.”

the impatient-tall-one lives up to his makeshift name and begins to stride towards where neil and andrew are, if the sounds of footsteps are anything to go by. neil’s brows knit in panic and andrew gives him a look that might as well say ‘ _oh look, you’re screwed_.’

it’s as if it’s in slow motion, the way the he pulls up next to andrew, follows his gaze, and raises his brows in surprise. from this close, neil can see the number 2 inked onto his cheek, the fine structure of his face, and how he seems to loom over neil and andrew – though the last part might be because neil’s still on the floor.

survival instincts scream for him to run, as if he might have a chance of slipping past them, but he can’t risk them following him back into his apartment. he doesn’t want to pack up and leave the best chance of survival he has.

“coach,” the impatient-tall-one calls, his eyes never straying from neil, “come here.”

neil swears they can hear him choking on his own heartbeat. it only takes a few moments for the first man (coach?) to appear within neil’s line of vision, and the look of surprise that skews his face is quickly replaced by one of intent.

“you got a name?”

that’s not what neil had been expecting. his eyes flicker from the first man, to the impatient-tall-one, to andrew, but he keeps his mouth shut.

“well?” the first man prompts.

“neil.” he says through numb lips.

“wymack. you got a home, neil?” the impatient-tall-one shoots wymack an alarmed look at this, but wymack brushes him off.

“that’s none of your business.”

“this one’s got an attitude.” andrew speaks for the first time, and neil decides that his expression is ultimately an unfriendly one.

“we’re not here to hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about. is there anyone else here?”

neil considers his question for a moment before shaking his head. “only me.”

the others share a look that neil can’t decipher.

“look, kid – neil,” wymack starts, “i don’t know how you’ve been able to keep this up, but living on your own only works for so long. we can offer an alternative.”

“no thanks.”

“you’re not even going to hear our offer?” the impatient-tall-one huffs.

“i’m good on my own.”

“not one for teamwork, then.” andrew says.

wymack cradles his head in his hand as if fighting off a headache. “andrew, kevin – _out_.”

the impatient-tall-one, who neil now assumes to be kevin, opens his mouth to argue back. before a sentence can escape him, however, wymack continues.

“meet me out by the car. and for the love of god, minyard, don’t touch anything.”

andrew turns to leave without another word, but kevin is hesitant.

“are you sure you don’t want us here?”

“your guard dog is waiting.”

kevin frowns, but does as he’s told none-the-less.

“living completely alone in a small town is no way to live.” wymack pushes once he’s sure kevin has followed andrew out.

“it’s not about living. it’s about surviving.”

wymack’s lips curve into a frown. “you know you’re just backing up my points, right? what’s the point in surviving if you’re not gonna live?”

“can you just leave me alone? i’m fine.”

“maybe you haven’t noticed, but we’re not leaving here without you. we’ve got a good, solid place set up five hours from here and we’re looking for survivors. you are one, aren’t you?”

neil wants to tell him not to twist his words like that, but nothing wymack’s said so far is wrong.

“we’ve got a doctor who knows her stuff, if that’s any consolation, and a team working on some kind of cure, so if you get bitten you know your life’s gonna mean something at least. it’s not civilisation but it’s the best anyone’s gonna get for now.”

it takes a few tries for him to get the words out. “why on earth would you want me?”

“if you’ve been surviving on your own like you said you have, why wouldn’t we?”

“i don’t have anything to offer.” just trouble.

“doesn’t matter.”

“it’s not a good idea.”

“your opinion has been duly noted and dismissed.” his eyes flicker towards the duffel bag beside neil. “you got anything else?”

he thinks of the food and the hair dye he keeps in his apartment. he thinks of the notebook and weapons he keeps in his bag.

“just this.”

before, neil had thought that his stupidest risk was not opting for silent weapons. now, his stupidest risk is turning his back on everything his mother had taught him about survival and taking a chance on strangers who have no good reason to help him. but wymack is right – there _is_ a difference between living and surviving, and neil doesn’t think he’s experienced the former. god help him, the selfish creature that he is; he is so tired of running and fighting just to make it to the next day. he’d like to rest his legs, even if it’s only for a little while.

he pulls himself to his feet, picking up his duffel bag as he does so. “how’s the rest of the world looking?”

wymack pauses. “number of infected is the same as the living. the major cities have been completely wiped out – new york, london, hong kong; china’s a war zone. some of the more isolated countries are doing well at keeping the number of infected down, but that’s all stuff you could’ve guessed. you after anything in particular, kid?”

twenty-two cities flash before his eyes. _baltimore_.

“no.”

there’s a question on wymack’s face, but he drops it and makes a start to leave. neil follows wymack out of the store. andrew seems to have ignored wymack’s warning and is fiddling with a packet of cookies he pointedly keeps away from kevin, though neither wymack nor kevin show any signs of annoyance. kevin perks up immediately at the sight of neil.

“please tell me this trip wasn’t worthless after all.”

“kevin, in the back.” wymack lifts the boot open to throw neil’s duffel bag in, but neil shakes his head. “god, if that’s all i had i’d be clinging onto it, too.”

neil slips quietly into the backseat of the car, and the engine is quick to roar into life as soon as wymack takes the driver’s seat. wymack peers behind him, only to say, “andrew’s raw on manners and kevin’s just kevin. keep the introductions brief and let’s get out of here.”

kevin makes a noise of indignation beside neil, though it’s directed towards wymack. “kevin day.” he holds his hand out for neil to take. neil only stares at his hand, and kevin is quick to give up on trying to make a good impression.

andrew doesn’t bother with introductions. instead, he fiddles with the radio and neil wonders how he gets away with having the music so loud when wymack seems like a no-nonsense man. neil can feel kevin’s gaze on him like a heavy weight, but neil says nothing about it, nor does he acknowledge kevin.

he tries not to think of what his mother would say about this, but he can’t help but hear her voice nagging in his ear, drowning out the radio. this is a stupid idea – the _stupidest_ – and he knows it, but the rather sudden, painful lump in his chest disagrees with his logic.

the occupants of the car are silent for the rest of the journey; neil’s eyes glued out the window as he watches the ‘ _you’re leaving millport!_ ’ sign come and go, fading into nothing more than a speck on the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is currently un-betaed so if i wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat you'll all know why  
> \+ shoutout to anyone who recognised canon dialogue


	2. don't let them run you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is a super sort chapter just to let you all know i'm still alive! i'll try get a longer update out soon... who knows

chapter 2 – "don't let them run you"

or

"decide for your life"

neil isn’t sure how much time passes, whether it’s minutes or hours, but it isn’t too long before wymack slows to a halt and curses aloud. neil shifts in his seat to look out through the front of the vehicle, and his stomach twists.

beyond the front window are several dozen dead people, covering up a large stretch of road. some of the more fresher specimens are already clambering toward the vehicle, and kevin, in a state of panic, suggests they floor it.

“through all those abandoned cars? don’t think so, genius.” wymack reverses instead to buy them time.

“do we risk another route?” kevin leans between the two front seats and the grip he has on wymack’s seat almost causes his knuckles to go white. “we can’t move all those cars.”

“you wanna go back the way we came?”

“we’ve already gotten one more survivor than we expected to get.”

“how heartless.” andrew says.

“what if we can get them to move?” neil asks, and kevin flicks him a strange look.

“what do you mean?”

neil hopes someone else has a better plan. he points to a ledge that lines the side of the road. “i’m a fast runner. i could lead them forward and you could drive through the gaps they leave.”

wymack shakes his head. “no way, kid. how the fuck have you managed to survive by yourself when you come up with crazy ideas like that?”

“we didn’t save you just so you could get yourself killed.” kevin says coldly.

neil swallows back his annoyance. “you didn’t save me. i was doing fine by myself.”

kevin opens his mouth to argue, but wymack cuts him off. “you’ve got twenty seconds to come up with a better plan before i spin this car around.”

neil doesn’t realise he’s unzipped his duffel until he feels the cool metal of his gun in one hand and his other on the door handle.

“you idiot.” kevin makes a grab for him, but freezes before he can do so much as touch neil. neil looks up to see andrew staring at kevin in warning.

“let him do what he wants. if he dies trying, at least we’ll be able to get through.”

wymack looks between andrew and kevin from the front. “kevin, you’ll cover neil.”

“you’re not really letting him do this.”

“if you don’t like the plan, come up with a better one.”

neil takes that as an invitation to open the door. there’s a bad taste in neil’s mouth, like all his anxiety and adrenaline are trying to claw its way out of him, but he bites down on his lip with a vigour he knows he is powerless to stop.

he sprints towards the ledge with a, thankfully, clear path and climbs precariously onto the metal. glancing back towards the car, he sees that kevin has taken over neil’s seat with the window down and a gun trained on neil’s position.

so yeah, this is really happening.

from there, neil begins to run along the ledge, making as much noise as he can the closer he gets to the dead. their attention swings from the car to an actual living body, and they stagger towards him in varying slow speeds. neil doesn’t look to see if the car inches forward or not. he has no real destination or path in mind beyond getting past the hoard, but his choices are limited by the amount of zombies.

he runs as quickly as he can along the unsteady ledge, his heart in his throat and his gaze flicking between what’s beneath his feet and what’s forward. he can see the dead ahead of him making their way towards him. he lifts his gun up for when they get too close for comfort and wills his hands to be steady.

the next three seconds happen in slow motion. the ledge wobbles under his feet, the legs holding the particular section up in a state of decay, and he knows can either jump off onto the road into the awaiting arms of the dead or risk falling alongside the ledge.

he goes for the former.

a bullet slams into the zombie closest to him the second he hits the ground and that kickstarts neil back into action with a surge of resilience. he sprints along the road, zombies collapsing as he passes them thanks to kevin. neil lifts his own gun up to shoot at the zombies coming at him from ahead and together they clear a path past the abandoned cars for neil.

the amount of zombies lessens the more neil runs, until he hears less grunts and moans and more heavy footfalls and ragged breaths. his chest aches for this to be over, and he clenches his teeth for the final surge.

once he reaches a safe distance neil yells out crude words to keep the dead’s attention on him and away from the car, and he mentally thanks them for being so simple-minded. wymack floors it once he gets around the last car, and kevin pushes the door open for neil.

“that’s the stupidest thing i’ve ever seen anyone do, and that’s including all of nicky’s stupid ideas.” wymack says when he’s sure neil’s safely inside and speeds away from the wreckage.

“it worked, didn’t it?” neil huffs, awkwardly unsure of what he’s supposed to do with his gun. there’s this feeling in his chest teetering on the edge of inspired, and whether it’s from doing something risky and stupid or doing something risky and stupid _with_ someone else, he also doesn’t know. he has nothing he can relate this feeling to; leftover adrenaline with nowhere to go, perhaps.

he looks at kevin. “thanks.”

“we probably would’ve had a better shot if we’d just left you to be eaten, but it’s too late now.”

neil doesn’t know if he’s joking or not, so he leaves it. victory suddenly feels a little bittersweet.

kevin shifts next to him, going back to looking out the window, and neil feels the weight of andrew’s stare before he sees it; it’s not quite like he’s sizing neil up, but more like he’s trying to see neil in a new light. andrew’s well aware neil’s staring back at him, so he goes back to fiddling with the radio and turning it back to whatever cd had been playing before.

the rest of the ride passes without incident and neil does his best not to think.

* * *

to neil’s surprise, the good, solid place of theirs is actually a university. it’s late evening by the time they get there and the parking lot is empty save for a few cars, mostly due to the barbed wired fence and the several makeshift defence mechanisms (most of them involving spears or sharp objects).

andrew is the first out of the car, quickly followed by kevin, and neil takes his time to sling his duffel over his shoulder once he’s out. andrew and kevin don’t bother to wait for neil, but wymack stays behind.

“you alright, kid?”

“i’m fine.” neil says.

wymack looks a little disbelieving, but doesn’t say anything. instead, he gestures for neil to follow him towards a narrow door between two gates, sealed with an electronic keypad. “this is the base of our operations, or as andrew’s lot like to call it, the court. serves as headquarters and a meeting point in case anything goes wrong.”

wymack keys the code in. the door leads to a hallway and neil quickly realises it’s a sports stadium. it’s a strange place to set up headquarters, but neil thinks of all the security measures already guarding it and figures it’s kind of reasonable.

“code changes every week, but you don’t need to worry about this too much for now. you just gotta know about this place as a security measure.” wymack goes back the way he came and neil follows. this time he walks up a road towards the heart of the university, streetlights acting as little islands of warmth as the evening turns dark. “this is where the labs are set up. you don’t happen to be some science prodigy, do you?”

neil shakes his head.

“didn’t think so. you don’t need to worry about this place either, but we might as well introduce you to some people just so they don’t pull a gun on you in the future.”

neil thinks of his mother, her firm grip against his forearm when trying to pull him in closer in the busy streets. he thinks of how furious she’d be for letting himself end up in a situation like this. he thinks of how hard her hits would be for following wymack into the labs.

 _the brains trust_ , neil thinks as wymack leads him through the first lab. a dark girl with short, curly hair and a face full of freckles looks up from the slide she’d been studying under a microscope, and wymack introduces the girl as dan wilds.

dan gives neil a cool once over. “is he safe?”

“risked his life to help us.” wymack says.

she seems to trust that, and she holds her hand out for neil to take, which again, he doesn't. “well, it’s nice to meet you, probably.” to wymack, she says. “you might want to know that abby’s having her preverbal kittens and is upstairs trying to preverbally wean them.”

“that bad, huh?”

“what’s going on?” neil asks, and dan gives wymack a conspiratorial brow raise.

“minyard is what’s going on.” wymack says.

that still doesn’t answer neil’s question but wymack doesn’t really seem to care. “dan, take care of neil, would you?”

dan smiles warmly and turns her attention towards neil. “you came in with kevin and andrew, right?” she winces at neil’s nod. “don’t worry. the rest of us are a bit more sane than those two.”

“how so?”

“you did just spend, what, six hours with them?” dan gives him another oncer-over. “where are you from, anyway?”

“millport.”

“where’s that?”

“exactly.”

she laughs a little. “i was here when the outbreak started if that makes you feel any better. i just hope i won’t be stuck here longer than the five years i promised when i first came here.”

neil blinks, not quite expecting that confession. “you went to university here?”

“mmhmm. i would be in my fourth year this year, too.” she turns to point at a man a few benches over. “nicky went to college here, too; so did a few others. you’ll probably meet them when wymack takes you over to the dorms.” she stacks some dishes and puts them in a drawer. “we take turns working in the lab, so everyone's on weird hours here.”

neil doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything until wymack comes back. neil searches his face for any sign that his meeting didn’t go well, but he can’t find anything.

“right, dan. what time are you finishing?”

her lips curl upward. “now, i guess.”

“right. take neil back to the dorm. there’s a spare bed in matt’s room.” to neil, he says, “you’ll love it. it’s just like home.”

needless to say, wymack’s smile doesn’t sit well with neil.


	3. home is where the knife is

chapter 3 – "home is where the knife is"

or

"let the fear collapse"

neil can safely say he only has one truly happy memory of his mother from when he was a child, and even then it’s a foggy one; a striking orange in a cloud-river of colourless glows. back when dying was a matter of ‘if’ and not ‘when’, back when he was someone and not no one, back when he had expectations to do something more than run and survive; back when he was destined to be great. it also happened to fall on the day his father struck him with a hot iron – but that’s a story for another time.

his father had been hosting another one of his important ‘business’ meetings, so neil’s mother had been seen fit to take neil out of the house for a few hours. clumps of ice had been melting on the side of the maryland state fairgrounds, empty and chained, and gray morning light filtered in through the clouds. his mother’s hand clutched his with a fierceness he would later grow used to after several years on the run.

she could have taken him anywhere – to the mall, to to the movies, to the playground – but instead she had taken him here. they had sat on one of the benches outside, which had been wet and unpleasant, with her legs crossed and his kicking out. neil hadn’t questioned it at the time, but now he often he finds his thoughts drifting to the desolate grounds, the damp air, the wet gravel, wondering what the connection between his mother and the maryland state fairgrounds were.

thinking about it makes something hurt inside him in a place he barely knows exists.

* * *

 

dan leads neil to what had once been the student dorms, chatting about various landmarks they pass so he can remember how to get from one place to another. there’s the chemistry labs they left from, the three cafeterias which now house stacks of various preserved foods, and more buildings for classes which aren’t good for much else at the moment. neil doesn’t say much, but dan is quite happy to fill the silence.

“for now you’ll have to room with matt and seth until you’re fully settled.” neil isn’t quite sure he knows what ‘fully settled’ is supposed to mean, but he doesn’t press. “matt’s good people and seth is, well – seth.”

“is that a good or bad thing?”

“that depends on what seth and allison’s relationship status is. if it’s good, you won’t really have to worry about either of them. if it’s bad,” dan shrugs, “you’ll have to just wait out the storm. don’t worry too much about him. if you can handle the end of the world, you can handle seth.”

neil thinks living people are a bit harder to handle than dead ones, but he doesn’t argue.

“coach will fix you up with a student access card soon,” dan says, swiping the aforementioned card into the card reader outside the dorms. “that way you won’t need one of us around you all the time. just think of us as bodyguards until then, okay?”

as they take the stairs up three levels, neil notices a weariness beginning to sink into his bones with each step he takes. it’s been an endlessly long day, and it’s hard to believe it was only this morning that he left his place in millport to get more protein bars. he thinks of just flopping into whatever bed they hand to him, but he knows it’s not that simple.

(it never is.)

the room he’s meant to be staying in is furnished with various bits and bobs. there’s the obvious choices like a desk and chair, a sofa, a television and games set, and a kitchen with all necessary equipment. then there’s the more… interesting choices, such as an orange road cone, a series of bold movie posters on the walls, ceramic plates, a strange, carved wooden figure on the coffee table, and a dusty, quilted blanket. and that’s just the beginning.

“matt?” dan calls out, and there’s a shuffling from one of the side-rooms. a man with gelled hair pokes his head out from behind the door. his gaze falls on neil and his brows lift in surprise. “this is neil. he’s the only one coach found out there.”

matt steps out, and while it’s no secret that just about everyone on earth is taller than neil, this man is definitely tall. he wears an easy grin that just seems to look so right on his face, like a heatwave in summer, and he holds his hand out for neil to take. he doesn’t even seem offended when neil doesn’t take it, nor when neil’s gaze drops to his obvious, if not faded, track marks.

“i’m matt.”

“neil,” he says flatly.

“are you hungry?” matt doesn’t bother to wait for neil’s answer because he’s already halfway to the kitchen. dan follows him to lean against the kitchen counter, and neil stands there, clinging to his duffel bag, because he’s not quite sure what to do. dan seems to notice this.

“matt, which one’s the spare room?”

“don’t have one. it’s just the bed under the loft right now.” to neil, he says, “you’ll have to move the inflatable doll in the bed, though. uh, anywhere is fine.”

“why do you keep an inflatable doll in the bed?” neil asks.

“oh, yeah, i forgot how weird this must all look.” matt gestures to the air around him. “seth and i go for supply runs sometimes and we always try to outdo each other on who can bring the weirdest thing back. everyone bets on it before we go, and then coach and abby decide the winner when we get back.”

neil’s mouth twists. “that sounds stupid.”

matt laughs, “it is a bit, isn’t it? seth’s the one who brought the inflatable doll back. don’t ask where from. i really don’t think you wanna know.”

“i think you’ve said too much already.” dan jokes.

neil leaves them to get the food ready and heads off towards his room. he’s quick to figure out which bed is his considering its current occupant, which he pushes off to the floor, and puts his bag on the bed instead. he takes the time to pull each individual item out to make sure everything he needs is there, and when that’s done, he leafs through his notebook carefully. all his money is there, not that he’ll need it anymore, and his all mother’s contacts. neil can breathe a bit easier knowing it’s all accounted for.

the fact that he has nowhere safe to hide his stuff is a bit worrying, however. he figures hiding the notebook under the mattress will have to do for now, and he adds ‘ask about some kind of safe’ to his mental list.

neil walks back into the main room in time to hear the end of matt and dan’s conversation.

“you might try flipping the top open, dan.”

“oh, yeah. i’d forgotten about your stupid coffee thing. sorry, i’m fading in and out today, apparently. made working a nightmare.”

“did you sleep at all last night?”

“i’m functional.”

“that’s not what i asked – oh, neil. hey.”

dan and matt both turn towards neil; dan fiddling with the coffee pot, blinking owlishly at him, and matt with a handful of vegetables.

neil regards them cautiously. “you’re working on a cure, aren’t you?”

“that’s right.”

neil opens his mouth, closes it, then opens it again. “you don’t really expect it to work, do you?”

“i don’t know what we expect, neil.” dan pauses in contemplation for a moment, before adding, “if science caused this whole mess, then science can get us out of it.”

“it might be a lot to ask right now, but have a little hope, neil.” matt says.

“you’re right,” neil replies. “it is a lot to ask.”

matt and dan exchanged an unreadable look, their eyes shining in the light that hangs above them. neil refuses to look away from the pitiful glance they spare him, feeling equal parts doubtful and annoyed. he exhales; neil hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath.

dan parts her lips to speak, but neil cuts her off. “am i allowed to look around this building?”

she bites her lips and looks away while matt flickers between looking at neil and dan. “just don’t wander too far, okay? you can eat with us when you get back.”

neil doesn’t know what to do with their misplaced kindness, so he leaves it in the room. he can come back and figure out what to do with it later.

* * *

 

after safely figuring out all the possible exits (four of them being ideal, another three he deems for the most dire of situations only, considering three storeys is a little too high to jump out of for neil’s comfort), he drags his feet a little towards the dorm he’s meant to be staying in. it’s only when he reaches his floor does he hear something weird.

it’s kevin’s voice, drifting into the hallway from a room two doors down from his, talking to someone neil doesn’t know. he stops and listens.

“if it’s not his current motivation, i am hoping it will become so.” he hears kevin insist. from what neil has gathered from a far-from-brief car ride with kevin, he likes to win, and he likes to win without question, too.

“you’re an idiot to think that.” the stranger replies.

“how so?”

“you’re applying your own set of values to his motivations. andrew is nothing more than a sociopath who likes to profit from chaos. he only has his self-interests. don’t assume my brother is in any way moved by what’s going on in the world now. if anything, he gets off on it.”

“then what do you propose we do?” kevin counters. “how do we get him to care?”

“it’s not really my problem. just because we look the same doesn’t mean i care about him, and it doesn’t mean he cares about me, either. you’re the one who got him off his meds, so you’re the one who has to deal with it.”

“you are useless, you know that?”

there is no answer and after a minute, neil gives up on playing eavesdropper and returns to his room. dan isn’t there anymore, probably off in her own room to catch some sleep, but matt hands him a bowl of something with rice in it and leaves him to it. neil figures he’s put off by his attitude, or at least giving neil enough space to cool down, but neil does nothing to rectify the situation.

he decides to skip the shower tonight but matt still hands him a fresh towel nonetheless, and neil tries not to feel bare under matt’s kindness. instead, he heads straight to his new bed, where he keeps his back pressed against the wall and his hand tucked under the pillow, on top of his notebook. sleep isn’t something neil can just require effortlessly, but the day’s events seem to stack on top of him like a paperweight, and it’s not long before he drifts off.

* * *

the wind is dry against his skin, and it burns where his hands are chaffed from the chill of a european winter. the snow is high, covering his thick boots, and he’s aware of the snow that has already soaked through his socks. he ducks his head against the elements, thinking of spring in city number three, summer in city number five, thinking anything to keep his mind off the cold.

his mother’s grip on his forearm is like like a trap, bony fingers digging into the skin and twisting to keep him in place.

he doesn’t want to think of baltimore, he doesn’t want to think of his father, he doesn’t want to think of his father’s eyes looking back at him in the mirror. he doesn’t want to think about breakfast tomorrow, the warmth inside, the way it seems like the locals are picking apart everything neil says like they are looking for errors, because his own words will never be good enough to convince them.

it hurts; it leaves a hole gaping in his chest with cold air rushing through, pressing too hard against everything. when he really thinks about it – when he takes time out of his day and thinks, he knows that it hurts to know he is nothing. it hurts to know he will never be anything to anyone, that he won’t even be a footnote in someone else’s story, it hurts to know that no one else will ever hear of the battles he’s fought – physically and figuratively.

he is something to his father (a runaway, a disgrace, a coward), and he is something to his mother (a son, a child, hers), but what is he to himself?

the wind is harsh and unforgiving. he doesn’t need to look over his shoulder to know that one of his father’s men is there, he doesn’t need to wait for their scent in the air or their voices to know that he’s in trouble. he can just tell by the way the hairs on the nape of his neck stand on edge and the way his mother’s grip turns stoney. she had always been harsh and unforgiving, volatile and rough around the edges, but she is his mother.

and when his mother tells him to run, he runs.

* * *

when he wakes up he doesn’t know where he is. panic grips his heart like his mother had gripped his arm all those times, and he bolts upwards. it’s not his room back in millport, nor is it his room back in baltimore, nor is it not a cell. it’s only when he hears dan’s voice drifting through from the room next door does he remember yesterday’s events.

“hey, don’t you know that sharing is caring?”

“no.”

“ah. an only child complex, then.”

“or i just really like m&ms.”

“for breakfast?” neil can hear dan’s disgust from his bed.

“hey, i’m not the one who willingly eats frozen lemons for pleasure.”

neil tunes out their argument, designating it unimportant. he places the notebook under the mattress again and steels his nerves before walking out into the main room, ready to face whatever the new day's going to throw at him.

matt and dan are on the couch with a bowl between them and a blanket hiding their legs. they look up with warm smiles when he walks in.

“hey, neil. did you sleep alright?” matt asks. “the bed all good?”

“it was fine.”

“cool, cool. do you like chocolate?”

“not really.”

“what?” dan asks around her current mouthful, slinging a disbelieving look neil’s way.

“well, when you have to watch dan shove all that into her mouth, i wouldn’t really go for it either.” matt teases and dan shoves him, grinning. “do you at least like hot chocolate?”

“i’ve never really had it before. i'm not big on sweet stuff.”

“i say we should change that – today. hey, dan, do you remember that really good place near my dad’s house that made the sweetest hot chocolate ever? it’s–”

“yeah! yeah, i do.” dan smiles nostalgically. “and i remember your mom’s friend made that really good ginger loaf, too.” her eyelids lower to the bowl which she taps her finger against, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “i wonder where they are now.”

“probably livin’ it up like we are right now.” matt says, and neil can’t seem to find an edge of worry to him. “you know, i’m beginning to think renee was right. you know that thing she’s always going on about, the one where no one has a home.”

dan looks to neil and pats the seat beside her. neil takes up a single chair on the side instead.

“you mean the one where we find homes in other people? is that thing she got philosophical on, about how that’s why as humans, we feel an intense need for personal connection?” she smiles grimly. “neil hasn’t met renee, yet. i don’t think he’s met anyone besides the monsters and us.”

“the monsters?” neil implores.

“andrew’s lot.” matt answers. “it’s the twins, their cousin, nicky, and kevin.”

“it’s easier just to call them monsters. that’s what they are.”

neil thinks back to the conversation he’d overheard last night, the one about andrew being nothing more than a sociopath. “does andrew have a twin?”

“yeah, god forbid there be two of them, but there are; andrew and aaron minyard.” dan frowns, and shifts to lean back against the sofa. “if you ever think you’re seeing double, you’re not.” she bites down on her lip, seemingly lost in thought for a few moments. “we should probably get you meeting everyone else, huh? i think coach wants to talk to you anyway.”

neil gets to his feet. “why do you call him coach?”

“most of us were students from before the end of the world,” matt answers, getting up as well, “and that’s just what we know him as. he coached for palmetto state. now he’s like, our revolution leader or something.”

dan’s the only one still sitting. she cants her head thoughtfully before looking up at matt. “you know, i think renee really is onto something. if i was sitting here alone, i’d feel a lot more out of place in the world than i do with you here.”

neil feels like he’s intruding. thankfully, he’s not the only one.

“is this mating season? should neil and i give you two a moment alone, or will you walk into the bedroom of your own accord?”

neil whirls around. he has no idea how andrew managed to get in here without him noticing, and neil can imagine his mother screaming at him for not paying enough attention to his surroundings. if andrew can get in unnoticed, anyone can; from his father’s men to his father himself. he’d been too caught up in normalcy –or something close to it – to pay attention to the door.

it won’t happen again.

“andrew.” dan shoots him a steely glare. “what do you want?”

“it’s not what i want. coach wants to speak with the child.” andrew’s gaze flickers to neil so there’s no mistakes on who the child is supposed to be. something hot rises in neil’s chest, volatile and jagged, and he squashes it back down to meet andrew’s stare with a heated glower.

“he’s not going with you,” matt says, “he can go with us.”

andrew looks bored, but otherwise he’s unmoving.

“it’s fine.” neil decides. “i’ll go with him. you can meet me down at the labs or something.”

dan looks hesitant. “are you sure, neil? you don’t have to go with him. you can stay here and eat – you know, take your time.”

neil shakes his head. “it’ll be quick.” he’s not entirely sure of that but andrew doesn’t agree or disagree with him. he turns to face andrew, who simply stares back at him for a few seconds, before andrew turns on his heel and leads him out the door.

“if you die a miserable death, at least we’ll know who did it.” matt calls after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wish i could say this is a better chapter than the last one but all my writing sucks so . yeah  
> anyway thank you so much for all the love on this story so far! i think you're the only ones who actually like this story but then again self-satisfaction is a myth  
> i hope you all like matt and seth's lil thing. it seems like something i would do in the apocalypse but honestly? if i were stuck in the apocalypse i would just get in my best outfit and lay down and die. i'm not living in a world with no netflix


	4. no maker made me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> half of this was written at the beginning of last year and the other half was written... recently. you'll know which is which (spoiler: it's ALL bad)

“no maker made me”

or

“oh dear GOD we’re out of scooby snacks”

the door closes, and neil’s back collides with the wall half a second later. there’s a blade pressed against neil’s chest, so, so close to pushing past the fabric of his shirt and nicking his skin. neil supposes he’s supposed to be surprised.

“what is this for?” he asks, but his heart still thumps hard against his ribcage. neil hadn’t exactly taken andrew for the murderous type, especially when the prime time to kill him has been and gone. and now that he’s really thinking about it, a well-used hallway isn’t a great murder spot at all.

killing him now that neil’s under wymack’s wing just makes andrew look like a moron.

“this is a warning.”

“and what are you warning me of?”

andrew digs the blade closer to his shirt, and this time it really does prick into neil’s shirt. “it is not my job to think for you. do not do anything stupid and bring the rest of us down.”

“since when did you have team spirit?”

andrew releases his grip on neil, but the flash of silver as it disappears is enough to sink the message in. don’t act on your own self interest. don’t fuck them over.

easier said than done, if neil’s honest, and he very rarely is.

andrew begins to walk towards the staircase as if he hadn’t just been holding neil at knifepoint. neil picks up the pace and falls into stride beside him. “why are you acting as the message man?”

“you do not get to ask questions.”

“why not?”

“because no self-proclaimed survivor actively tries to get killed on more than one occasion.”

“sometimes that’s how you survive. it’s better than sitting there and waiting to die.” neil shoots him a sidelong glance. then, quietly, he goes, “you think i’m going to fuck you over out of self preservation.”

“am i wrong?”

no, he’s not. but admitting that aloud isn’t something neil wants to do. not because he doesn’t want to face his pitiful lack of humanity, but because he doesn’t want to give andrew something to hang over him. that would be too much like tying a rope around his neck and handing andrew the other end.

the air is cool against his skin when they step outside, with clouds hanging heavily over the sky, and the urge to run is like an itch neil doesn’t dare to scratch. he has to remind himself that this is safety – or some twisted form of it – and running won’t get him anywhere good. it probably doesn’t help that he still hasn’t had breakfast. he suspects that if he tried, he’d make it to the barbed wire before every muscle in his body decided to give out.

neil opens his mouth to ask andrew about the wall, but the look andrew gives him says that he shouldn’t waste his breath.

the smell of antiseptic is pronounced when they walk into the building that houses the labs, but andrew doesn’t stop there. they keep walking down the halls and up the stairs, eventually stopping at a door that andrew doesn’t hesitate to open.

the room is cold – visually, that is – save for the light filtering in through the windows and the vase of beautiful flowers, roses or carnations – neil isn't sure – tucked away on a small, tidy desk. the whole room smells distinctly of lemons and disinfectant. neil thinks he might choke on it.

“andrew!” a voice scolds. “you can’t just go around – oh, hello neil.” a woman neil hasn’t seen before blinks at him, almost dismissing andrew completely. “i’m abby,” she steps forward to hold out her hand – what is with everyone doing this lately? – which neil, to no one’s surprise, ignores. the woman doesn’t look like the type to be mad at anyone for long, so she smiles. “you're just here so i can have a look at you. height, weight, all that good stuff. consider it like a doctor’s appointment.”

neil doesn’t really know what a doctor’s appointment entails, but his brows furrow anyway. “why?”

“in case anything were to happen, outside-related or otherwise.”

“she wants to know what we’re bringing in.” andrew interrupts. 

“you’ve been looked after, andrew.” abby speaks with the patience of a mother scolding a child, airy, yet with a pronounced sense of sternness. “you can go now.”

andrew doesn’t need to be told twice. neil watches him go, just to make sure he’s really gone, then turns back to abby.

“what’s wrong with him?”

“that’s none of your concern.” abby replies, not unkindly. she motions for him to sit on the bed.

“it is if i’m going to be living with him.”

“you leave the worrying to kevin and me.”

neil has a million and one questions. “why does kevin care?”

“you’ll have to ask him. lie down, please.”

he does as abby asks, and she proceeds to take his blood pressure in silence. neil has a sinking suspicion that he’s going to fail whatever test this is, even if he hasn’t had any particularly bad run ins with any dead people. the living? sure. zombies? not so much.

abby weighs him and checks his height in silence before she declares him fit to go – for now.

“i’ll walk you down to the labs,” abby offers. “someone down there will be able to take you back. we’ll take your bloods after you’ve had lunch.”

she leads neil back the way andrew took them, but this time they detour into a different room. “nicky?” abby pokes her head around the corner, clearly looking for someone. “you’re due for a break. can you come help me with something?”

“that’s not much of a break.” a man with darker skin and curly hair pouts. neil’s quick to recognise him as the same person dan had motioned to on his first day here. the man packs up his gear via pushing it to the side and walks towards abby.

“so, what is it?”

abby goes to place her hand on neil’s shoulder, but stops herself halfway. neil doesn’t know if she does this because she’s scared she’s going to break him, or if she just knows better. “this is neil. he doesn’t have a card yet, so could you walk him back to the dorms?”

“babysitting duty, huh?” nicky doesn’t look displeased, however. there seems to be something like a spark in his eyes – interest, mischief, triumph – it really could be anything. “sure, yeah. okay.”

abby gives them both one last smile, before she turns back to do… whatever she does. neil makes another mental scribble to ask someone about that in more detail. probably dan – she seems to be both the person with answers and the person willing to give them to him.

“so, you’re the new kid i’ve heard so much about,” is what nicky decides to start with as he gets them both moving, and after several minutes neil’s very quick to realise nicky isn’t likely to shut up any time soon. he's a marvellous talker – magical, if neil ever decides to be generous – and would be highly likely to start talking about plato's four divine madnesses if the walk weren't so short. the little silence they have shared between them has quickly turned to a conversation about many things. it’s mostly one-sided.

“do you know that each year, the sun moves further and further away?”

neil wants to thank him for that completely useless information. instead, he lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “okay.”

“don’t you care?”

“why should i?”

“because one day it’ll be just too far. all our crops will fail and our water will dry up and it’ll be constantly dark. we’ll probably all freeze to death.”

“‘we’ won’t be doing anything.” neil says. he’s not really sure what this has to do with anything, or why nicky is all of a sudden using him as a buddy in philosphy. “we’ll all be dead by then.”

“what about our future children? and their children? and then their children? and then–”

“they’ll find a way to deal with it.” neil doesn’t mention the fact that he doesn’t plan on having children, let alone the fact that he doesn’t expect to live long enough to have them. 

nicky huffs, but it’s good natured. “you’re kind of a downer.”

neil shrugs again. “get used to it.”

“what’s your story, anyway? what were you up to before all this?”

“does it matter?” it’s like all the stories, all the lies, that have lead up to this moment have been wiped clean. it’s a second chance – one neil’s not going to take. “we’re all just survivors now.”

“don’t be so… bleak.” nicky pulls a face. “we’re not working on a cure for you to slump your shoulders all the time. consider it an intermission to living.” they approach the dorm, and nicky hesitates before he swipes the keycard. “i mean, it’s your choice, but the rest of us aren’t giving up. no one’s gonna be around to amuse your… whatever this is. an emo stage?”

he recalls a greek class he'd taken briefly in one of the many schools he'd gone to, where the professor, a long-nosed man whose square shoulders were always covered by a white button-down, had said that the greeks love for order and symmetry was no match for their love of barbarism. that to cause fear was to be beautiful. there's a metaphor in there somewhere: about the world they live in now, where rotting flesh is normal and people hide and fight just to get by.

neil doesn't bother wondering what happened to that teacher. there are too many what-ifs.

neil doesn’t have the energy to shoot him an incredulous look, and instead starts on the stairs. they don’t talk again until neil reaches his floor.

“i’m a few doors down,” nicky’s lips lift in a smile. “have fun putting up with the lovebirds.”

it takes a few seconds before neil drags his gaze away and opens the unlocked door to his dorm, making a mental note to figure out a way to get a lock on this thing, because neil needs his privacy; needs his secrets even more. there’s no sign of dan or matt, so he heads for the bathroom to shower. there’s a presumably fresh towel waiting on the counter, so he claims it for himself.

he thinks about andrew’s threat. he thinks about what would happen if he took from them and ran. he thinks about what would happen if he screwed these people over for his own survival, when they could cause many more to survive.

neil doesn’t think he has the stomach for that kind of sacrifice.

* * *

 

the next few days pass as though the dawn of the dead had never happened. dan and matt act like he’s the third-wheel in their honeymoon, nicky doesn’t hesitate to corner him periodically, kevin looks either terrified or sick whenever they run into each other, and andrew… he doesn’t really see him at all. not that he’s been looking for him.

neil learns that friday night dinners are a communal affair the hard way.

“what was your name again?” allison reynolds asks, peering at him through her thick lashes from across the table as she breaks a bread roll in half. her expression is half calculating, half pure interest. when you think ‘apocalypse’, you do not think of bohemian waves braided back or leather jeans. you do not think of perfect brows or fluffy fur coats or even a face full of precisely-applied makeup. you do not think of allison reynolds at all.

dan had told him in passing that allison had come to palmetto state to study fashion, though she’d been disinherited by her celebrity-status family because she wanted to play sports and roughhouse it rather than play the part of the rich and dainty girl. she’d always laugh now about how ridiculous it all was, that the end of the world had come and what did she have to show for any of it? she was going to help them all find a cure, make it through this, and come out on top. then no one would care if she still wanted to get down and dirty on the field.

whatever allison is, neil has to give it to her. she doesn’t play by the book.

“i didn't give it to you.” he says now.

“i know. but let's pretend for the sake of politeness that you offered it already.”

he frowns. “neil.”

she nods to herself as if she’s won some kind of private bet. “and how did you wind up here? your parents leave you to fend for yourself?”

“allison!” dan scolds, and only she and matt have the decency to look embarrassed. nicky looks intrigued, and seth, who’s sitting beside allison with an arm draped across the back of her chair, just lifts his brows.

“something like that.” neil says. on a scale from one to ten, with one being ecstatic and ten being very, very, _very_ unhappy, neil rates himself about ten billion when it comes to allison’s next question.

“and you’re definitely not waiting for anyone on the other side? no, like, scandalous past lover you've been separated from?”

seth’s face darkens, and he opens his mouth to say something before neil cuts him off. “no.”

allison leans back with a self-satisfied smile, and seth lays a possessive hand on allison’s arm. neil wants to tell him not to bother, that the truth is that yeah, allison’s pretty – beautiful, even – but he's simply not interested. he goes back to picking at his food and hoping that seth doesn’t say anything.

clearly he doesn't know seth all that well.

“don’t get any funny ideas.” he says, glaring at neil as if he could set him alight through sheer willpower alone. allison’s smile has a smug edge to it, and she pops another piece of bread into her mouth.

neil shrugs. “okay.”

“and don’t play smart,” seth adds angrily.

“okay.”

“is that all you’re going to say?”

“pass the salt?”

“fuck you.” seth’s lip curls, and though his hand tightens around allison’s shoulder, he leaves it.

nicky passes neil the salt, and he says, just low enough for only neil to hear, “he’s like that with everyone, even me, and he knows full-well i’m not going to touch allison even if we were the last two people on earth. don’t worry about it.”

“so long as he doesn’t go for anywhere vital.” neil shrugs.

nicky gives him a rueful little smile. “spoken like a true Fox.” he pulls back, and before neil can question him, nicky's face brightens as he hails someone across the room. neil looks up to see andrew walking towards them with a thunderous expression on his face.

“why are you sitting here?” he asks as he draws close enough, not bothering to lower his voice. dan looks troubled, while seth and allison just look disgusted.

“oh, come on. don’t you want to get to know the new kid?” nicky says, grinning, but the corners of his lips weaken.

“no.”

“i would say ‘fuck you, freak’,” seth says, “but then you wouldn’t know which one of you i was talking to.”

“don’t talk to us at all.” andrew says. “you never have anything useful to say. come on nicky.”

“aaron,” nicky winces, “i just thought–“

“clearly you didn’t.” he keeps on walking, eventually sitting at a table near the back of the cafeteria. nicky gives them all an apologetic smile before he sets off, too. neil thinks for a second that nicky’s shoulders are slumped, that he is all strung out on honour and loyalty, maybe even approval. why else would he do what he’s told so willingly? why else would he duck his head and water himself down for someone to sit with?

neil doesn’t want to ask – really, he’d rather just keep his head down than meddle in their affairs – but he seems to have a spot where andrew is concerned. he'd like to call it insurance, just in case andrew decides to get knife-y with him again. “why did he call andrew aaron?” neil asks once they’re both out of earshot.

the group seems to digest this question, before dan’s brows raise and she says, “because that’s aaron, not andrew.”

realisation dawns on neil’s face.

dan almost smiles. “you still haven’t seen them together yet, have you?”

“they can hardly stand to be in the same room together.” allison says, giving neil an even look as she folds her arms. “i doubt they’re about to go round throwing you a welcome party.”

neil shakes his head, once again thinking of the night he had overheard kevin and… aaron. he knows that now. he can finally place another piece of the puzzle: ‘ _andrew is nothing more than a sociopath who likes to profit from chaos_ ’, aaron had said. ‘ _just because we look the same doesn’t mean i care about him, and it doesn’t mean he cares about me_.’

then – ‘ _you’re the one who got him off his meds, so you’re the one who has to deal with it_ ’.

it’s not his place, neil reminds himself. so long as andrew’s – what is it, withdrawal? – doesn’t affect him, it is not his place.

so why does neil feel like this _matters_?

* * *

 

things get interesting when wymack calls him up for a supply run.

“you’ll be going with seth.” he says one morning, looking at neil with something akin to resignation as his mouth presses into a thin line.

neil’s shoulders go back in surprise, but he doesn’t say anything.

“matt’s not feeling too good, and we’re not taking any chances. andrew and kevin are going to be going with you, too. seth’s in charge. don’t piss him off.”

and that’s about it for wymack’s pep talk.

so here he is, forty minutes away from the university via an uncomfortable car ride, his heart pounding in time to his feet. it slams through his chest, his blood pumping to every part of his body. going out into the open seems to make him more aware of the fact that he’s alive, like it’s his body’s way of reminding him to be thankful. that a half-life is still alive even if surviving and living don’t mean the same thing.

every shadow in the street’s shop window’s look like monsters all around them. it’s like the ghost of civilisation; a place where people would once come to shop, now it looks like somewhere they’d come to die. furniture is upturned in almost every shop they pass, their stock near depleted. seth seems to know we’re they’re going, though, so they keep their mouths shut, their senses on high-alert, and follow him through the wasteland.

neil spares a glance behind him. kevin is there, looking at the posters for a magazine that hang outside one store almost longingly, and behind kevin is andrew, who looks right at neil as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. neil thinks that could very well be true.

“weird.” seth says to neil, because there doesn't look like there's anyone else around to talk to, and seth doesn’t strike him as the type to talk to himself. “i stopped here once on my way up.”

“to USC?” neil asks.

“yeah.” seth nods, not sounding torn up about it, but there’s still something there. regret, maybe. “had pad thai over at that place there.” he points towards the broken sign to a thai restaurant with his chin. neil wonders if there's anything worth scavenging in there.

instead, neil asks casually, “was it any good?”

“it was alright.”

neil doesn’t reply to this, and seth stalks further up, leaving neil to his thoughts and his beating heart. he hears the distant sounds of kevin and andrew talking behind him, but he doesn’t fall back to join in.

seth turns right, into a womens’ pharmacy, and the gaps between them all lessen as they follow his path. “mind your step.” seth says gruffly, and the wind picks up and carries the falling decibels of his voice. they do as they’re told. “split up and take what you can get. we’re looking specifically for medicine, but if you think something’s going to be good, grab it. god knows we’ll take what we can get.” seth eyes the near-empty stock almost warily, then steels his face into a cold determination.

neil realises that they’re just going to leave him to his own devices. sure, andrew’s got his eye on him, but in the end andrew’s more concerned about kevin’s safety than whether or not neil’s going to browse the skincare aisle. he could run. he could do anything.

he stuffs random things he thinks might help into the plastic bags they’d brought – eye drops, tweezers, topical lactic acid – hoping someone might find some use for them. he tries to steer clear of the dirty glass windows set in raw metal, lest something unwanted catches sight of them. it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened. seth is doing the same in an aisle over, more methodical in his work, but doing so with practiced ease.

“how many runs have you done?” neil asks, looking over the divider.

seth doesn’t return his gaze. “lost count.”

they continue their literal stock take in silence, until the entire store has been scoured twice and all their takings are stuffed into the bags. the sun sits heavily in the middle of the sky now, the blue of it unbroken by clouds. neil doesn’t know if he should be disappointed that their plastic bags aren’t overflowing, but seth isn’t complaining.

“let’s load up.” seth says, dusting off his hands as if he can rid himself of their company just as easily. he stands near the door with plastic bags hanging off his wrists and a knife in the cocoon of his hand. “and for the love of god, minyard, don’t fucking take that shit.”

andrew doesn’t respond, but one glance at the candy bar peeking out of his pocket tells neil all he needs to know.

“idiot.” seth doesn’t bother to keep his voice down.

the next moment happens in slow motion, as these things tend to do. seth pushes one side of the sliding doors open with his shoulder, but a hand darts out, its body obscured and unannounced by the blinding light of the sun outside, and nails tear their way down his arm. a strangled cry escapes seth, and his body jerks with adrenaline as he tries to retreat. kevin rushes forward, but andrew holds him back. blood runs down seth’s arm and he swipes his knife over its decaying flesh, but it is too late. they all watch in horror the dead woman sinks its teeth into seth’s flesh.

a moment of clarity is all it takes for seth to shove the knife into its head, the supplies be damned. the woman crumples to the ground, and they hesitate. there could be more.

but seth’s breathing shallows, one hand clamped to his wound, and he tries to stay upright. neil takes a brave step forward. from this point he can see out the door, and the street is still.

“can you fix it?” neil figures it doesn’t hurt to ask. they are researching a cure, after all. maybe they have something that can slow it down.

seth grits his teeth. he hisses as his grip tightens, as if he can stop the blood from flowing. then, he shakes his head.

“there is something we can do.” kevin starts, but seth shakes his head more vigorously. he is getting more pale by the second.

“there’s no way i’m becoming a lab rat.”

“we can’t get him back in the car like that.” neil says. and speaking of – “how are we going to get back?”

“i know the way.” andrew says.

“just get it over with.” seth pants out, and when neil turns his head, he sees that seth is looking right at andrew.

“let him do it.” andrew replies as if they’re choosing who’s going to clean up the dishes. it is with a jolt that neil realises andrew means him.

“wh–“ neil looks between andrew and kevin, searching for an explanation.

kevin digs the heel of his palm to his forehead in response, as if he can drive the right answer into his head. but there isn’t a right answer in this – merely a choice they have to make, and neither one of those look particularly hopeful. kevin’s terrified look is almost a prophecy.

“how?” the word seems to scrape up neil’s throat. a gun is the safest, though there’s no point drawing unnecessary attention to themselves. andrew hands neil a blade, presumably the same one he’d had against neil’s chest not too long ago.

“are you sure?” kevin’s voice is strangled. “you might have a chance if we–”

“no fucking way.”

“you should give this some thought.” neil says warily. “i don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this isn’t a decision you can go back on.”

“i’m going out on my terms, not as a last resort.” and it is almost admirable.

all he has to do is plunge it into his chest. all he has to do is watch seth bleed out. all he has to do is watch the life in seth’s eyes drain out, and he would rid himself of seth’s mistake in the only way they know how.

and how is this any different from killing his father’s men? how is this any different than watching his mother lose consciousness in the passenger seat of a car? how is this any different from protecting himself, the one thing he’s any good at?

seth takes a while to formulate his words, and by the look on seth’s face, neil’s almost afraid he’s going to confess some sort of undying love for him. instead, he says, “bring my body back, and make sure allison makes it out okay.”

and that is that.

* * *

 

it’s unfortunate. seth’s take-home present this round will have to be his dead body.

the silence in the car is suffocating. kevin keeps alternating between looking shell-shocked and disgusted, but either way he avoids eye contact with neil in the mirror. his hand covers his mouth, and every now and then he tries to say something. he gives up every time. andrew seems not to care, and neil wonders if he’s done this before. if either of them have had to kill someone because of the fate that would await them otherwise.

on the way over, they had listened to some soft rock album that seth had tapped his fingers along the wheel to. his whole body had coursed with the music, had just screamed ‘alive’ in the face of an empty road. now he’s lying in the trunk of the car. neil would wish the ride was longer just so he could put off the fallout for as long as possible, but at the same time he’d rather not be in such close proximity to a very dead seth much longer.

he forces himself to look out the window, at the world that should be bustling with activity and life. the towns start coming closer and closer together. the most alive thing he sees outside the confines of the car is a startled deer. the most human thing he sees is a dead person rattling in some bushes.

_that could have been seth_ , neil thinks, and the cycle starts all over again.

“get out,” is all andrew says when they finally pull up outside the gym, past the barbed wire and the high walls. kevin does as he’s told, acting as if the seat is suddenly on fire and and the air outside is his reprieve, and not as if he’d been still with indecision and fear for the last hour. neil stays still.

“what are you going to do with seth?”

“eager to destroy the evidence?”

“i want to know if this has happened before.”

“killing one of our own? not yet, no.” he says this with some sort of slow satisfaction, and neil’s stomach curls.

“i’ll help you bring him in.”

andrew opens his car door. “don’t bother.” he hops out easily, making his way to the gymnasium without a second thought for neil. neil doesn't know whether he’s meant to stay in the car or follow andrew in, but in the end he figures it wouldn’t hurt to keep an eye on andrew. it’s not like seth’s going anywhere.

“you didn’t do this on purpose, did you?” neil asks as he pulls up in time to see andrew punch in the last digit of the code, and he only bothers to spare neil a disinterested glance.

“what, strategically guide seth towards his death? should i be honoured or offended that you would think that of me?” the door swings open, and they make their way through the initial corridor side by side.

“don’t act as if i’m unreasonable for thinking that when you’re the one who pulled a knife on me. i’m pretty sure half the people here would kill him for less.”

“seth contributes.” andrew says simply, though the weight of the unsaid words feel like a knife to neil’s chest. _you don’t_. “you’re telling coach.”

“telling him what?”

they stop in front of a bright orange door, and neil can only assume who’s on the other side of it. “the truth. i know that may be hard for a compulsive liar such as yourself, but trying never hurts.”

“you’re awful.” neil glares at him.

“tick tock.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm planning on going back over previous chapters to flesh out some things and just make them better overall bc it's been a year n i'd like to think my writing's improved. will let you all know if i add anything worth rereading!  
> anyway give me hashtag reader input in the comments or @ [shikinami](http://shikinami.tumblr.com/) or [tadasgay](http://tadasgay.tumblr.com/)


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